


Oceansong

by nightsstarr



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Azure Moon - Freeform, Day At The Beach, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25409104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightsstarr/pseuds/nightsstarr
Summary: "A new song?" he asked, and she couldn't tell if his tone was teasing or hopeful. She decided some moons ago that it didn't much matter."It's not new," she said, smiling softly.He raised his navy brows at her, questioning."You think you've heard all my songs, Felix Fraldarius? What an insult. A good songstress is always working on new material.""Of course. Forgive the insult." He bowed slightly, and Annette had to bite back a giggle."All is forgiven. Besides, what I meant was that the notes I was humming weren't part of a new song. They're part of the oldest collection of songs in history, actually--the song of the ocean.""The what?" He was frowning at her now, confused."It's true. You know, the ocean sings. If you hold a shell to your ear, you can hear it."
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58
Collections: Those Who Drabble in the Dark





	Oceansong

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Rose for the beach prompt. Thank you intsys for beach heroes. Thank you for reading.

The shores of Derdriu were beautiful, so much more beautiful than she remembered the shores on the beaches of Dominic. The weather was warmer, and the water was clearer, and the sands were whiter.

They were to head back to the monastery tomorrow, but Hilda and Claude insisted on a day of rest in Derdriu. The Professor shocked them all by agreeing.

So they abandoned their well-used camp gear and slept the night in the Riegan Palace. Mercie had to nearly drag Annette out of her bed, it was so comfortable and plush compared to bedrolls and the Academy beds at the monastery. 

They walked around the shops in downtown Derdriu--Annette found some pretty gems and baubles that she couldn't resist purchasing. They'd just won an important battle, she reminded herself as Mercie helped her clasp on a bracelet she did a poor job of bartering for. She could buy herself a bracelet if she wanted.

In the afternoon, some of them took to the beach, Sylvain, Ingrid, and the Professor especially interested in lounging in the sun. She and Mercie had gotten outfits especially for the beach--Annette, a skirt with no lining that fell to her ankles in a thin circle, and Mercie, a sundress with a wide-brimmed hat. Ashe must have purchased trunk bottoms, and he wore that with a hooded shirt and accompanied them from the palace to the beach.

The sun was already setting when they arrived, and Flayn was beside herself, her jade eyes swimming with happy tears as the choppy waters reflected the setting sun in a fiery portrait. 

Nights on the beach were some of Annette's favorites, and she found herself drawn to the water's edge, kicking off her shoes to let the water, still holding the sun's warmth, lap at the soles of her feet before returning to the heart of the ocean.

She loved the beautiful mountains around Garreg Mach, she loved walking to the bridge to the cathedral and looking out over the scenery, the waterfalls, the greenery, the hiking trails. But the sand beneath her feet, cooled by the sun's descent, felt like a blessing. The ocean, swelling and retreating, the water warm against her bare feet, felt like a familiar lullaby.

She'd grown up in Fhirdiad with her parents, but they'd always spent summers in Dominic with her cousins and her uncle. The beaches there were a bit coarser than the fine, white-sanded beach of Derdriu, and the water was never this warm, and the wind was always a bit sharper, but it was still so familiar.

The rest of her friends were scattered among the shoreline. Mercie was telling her ghost stories over the fire as Flayn roasted fish after fish, and Ashe was quaking in his spot next to her. Sylvain and Ingrid were playing a game, passing a lightweight ball back and forth to each other, as Dimitri and the professor sat in the sand and watched. Dedue was not far from his liege, although he'd been busying himself by sculpting with sand.

Annette had been alone, looking out over the ocean as the warm water lapped at her feet, breathing in the thick salty air and lifting her skirt so deeper swells didn't wet the bottom.

It was by chance that a perfect conch shell, all swirls and no chips, rolled out of the water a few from where she stood, and just like she always had in her youth, she lunged for it before the next swell of foamy water could steal it back.

This all felt so nostalgic, and yet the child who swam in the ocean at Dominic wouldn't recognize herself now, bloodstained and war-torn. She hummed a few notes to comfort herself as she traced the spirals in the shell.

She'd admit that Felix often snuck up on her, that she didn't always hear his light footed tread, that she was often more distracted than a General in an ongoing war should allow herself to be. But she heard his approach this time, his boots clumsy in wet sand and shallow water.

She knew it was him before she turned fully to face him. The firelight was too dim this far away to reach them, but Annette thought she could see it reflected in Felix's eyes, anyway.

"A new song?" he asked, and she couldn't tell if his tone was teasing or hopeful. She decided some moons ago that it didn't much matter.

"It's not new," she said, smiling softly.

He raised his navy brows at her, questioning.

"You think you've heard all my songs, Felix Fraldarius? What an insult. A good songstress is always working on new material."

"Of course. Forgive the insult." He bowed slightly, and Annette had to bite back a giggle. 

"All is forgiven. Besides, what I meant was that the notes I was humming weren't part of a new song. They're part of the oldest collection of songs in history, actually--the song of the ocean."

"The what?" He was frowning at her now, confused.

"It's true. You know, the ocean sings. If you hold a shell to your ear, you can hear it."

"Any shell?" he demanded, his gaze dropping to the one in her hands.

"Yeah! See?" She shook her hair, frizzy and wavier than usual due to the salt air, away from her face, and she pressed the shell against her ear.

"Can I listen?" Felix asked, and he was looking resolutely at the shell in her hands and not at her face. "I want to hear the ocean's song."

She passed him the shell and waited patiently as he pressed it to his ear, and his frown only grew more serious as time went by.

"I don't hear it."

"What? Really?" Annette plucked the shell from his fingers and pressed it into her. It was the hollow sound that would probably come of pressing anything that shape against one's ear. She hummed a few notes, a nonsensical melody to accompany waves crashing onto sand.

He took it from her and pressed it into his ear again.

"It sounds like that," she explained, waving out toward the foamy water as it drew away from their feet. "It isn't notes, exactly."

His eyes fluttered closed, his eyelashes cutting sharp shadows over his cheeks, his hair stirring in the sea breeze. "I think I  _ do _ hear it? I'm not sure it qualifies as a song. Not like one of yours."

She leaned toward him, reaching for the shell, and as she reached for it a harsher wave crested and broke closer to the beach than the others, and she needed to grip his shoulder as water soaked them up to their knees. His hand was warm, suddenly, against her hip, his fingers sitting right at the waistband of her skirt, the breeze making her top billow out around her.

There wasn't very much light, except for the moon and the stars and the firelight further inland, so Annette wasn't sure why she was surprised to find his eyes looking so dark.

The water was rushing back into the ocean, and her bare toes were sinking further into sand, and she tightened her fingers around his shoulder--for balance--and before the wind calmed and the next swell was brushing gently against her feet, they were kissing.

It was hesitant, slow, clumsy. Annette couldn't remember what, exactly, she was supposed to do, and Felix was frozen, his mouth parted slightly against hers. Her hair was blowing into both of their faces, and before she could reach up to sweep it away Felix's fingers were brushing over her cheek, swiping her hair back behind her ear.

He'd pulled away a little to see what he was doing, and his cheeks were red as he looked down at her, swiping more of her hair behind her ear.

She pushed onto her toes, slipping in the sand a little, wrapping her arms around his neck for balance, and his hand was at her hip once again, holding her close as she angled her lips against his. She tried to coax him into opening his mouth, moving his lips a bit, and when she gently trailed her fingers over his jaw she heard him drop the conch shell into the shallow waters with a  _ splat  _ and his newly free hand came to rest at the small of her back.

"No--Felix!" she shouted, and she tried to hike up her skirt at the same time that she felt blindly for it.

She spotted it, being carried by the receding waters into the wide ocean, its inky black surface reflecting the stars, and she scrambled forward and snatched it before a wave could crest over it and close its foamy maw around it, stealing it away forever.

Felix's fingers wrapped around her wrist and he pulled her back to the drier sands, where they'd been standing, and the wave that broke had been rougher than the others. Foamy water brushed docilely past her ankles, but if she'd been standing those few feet deeper, she'd have been knocked over.

His mouth was set in a stern frown, and she clutched the shell in both hands.

"I want to keep it," she explained weakly. The conch was covered in wet, mucky sand, and she crouched to rinse it off on the approaching swell of foamy water. Saltwater soaked into her skirt, but she didn’t mind it. Once the shell was clean, she glanced up to Felix again.

He stood resolutely next to her, careful to only let the water lap at his boots. “It’s not worth drowning over,” he said, and Annette rolled her eyes at him. 

“I wouldn’t  _ drown.” _

She scooted toward the drier sand that still held the last of the sun’s warmth. The night air held a chill, even in Derdriu, and she shivered slightly as she placed the shell in her lap and wrung her skirt out, darkening the white sand as seawater dampened it.

Felix sat down next to her, and as she was busy drying her skirt, he plucked up the shell and held it to his ear again. “I  _ do  _ hear it,” he admitted, and he turned awkwardly with the shell pressed against his face to look at her. “I think your songs are better.”

Her breath caught in her throat, the humid, salty air heavy in her lungs, and before she could disagree his lips were on hers again, and she clenched her fingers around fine sand as he kissed her.


End file.
